The Raven and The Lion
by meskimo11
Summary: This is the story of the first few years after the founding of Hogwarts, told from the perspective of Helena Ravenclaw. Follows mainly Helena, and Godric Gryffindor's daughter, Wilda Maud Gryffindor. (Does not explicitly follow the series, some variations occur. Introduces new characters to HP.) I do not own Harry Potter or it's characters all rights belong to J.K. Rowling.
1. Chapter 1: Introduction

The scottish glens looked warm, despite the slight bite of the air that surpassed me. To my left stood the ivory castle, standing tall in the rocky mountains. The bright contrast of the blue banners was evident against the warm yellows and reds of the autumn trees. From where I stood I could see my mothers room. The dark blue curtains reflected off the windows, giving them the illusion that they were glowing. Everything in my home was blue. Not that I minded blue, it was a perfectly beautiful color. It was the color of the sky, the waters, and my eyes. I had been told since a very young age, that I had beautiful eyes. A deep blue that in some light, appeared purple. But what did I care, a person becomes so accustomed to a color and it becomes boring. I was required to wear it nearly everyday. "Those are the house colors, Helena! You should wear them with pride!" my mother would say. Ah yes, my mother. The famous Rowena Ravenclaw. She was both beautiful and brilliant despite her age, and I was her daughter, expected to be exactly like her. The fault was I was neither as wise nor beautiful as my mother. All though I had a deep respect and love for her, I have always felt belittled compared to her, never as good as she. As I gazed over the reflective lake, and the green grass hills, I heard the sound of approaching footsteps crunching on gravel.

"My lady," greeted the stranger, "Your mother requires that I see you into the Castle. She would like a word with you"

I turned to face this new man, and he gazed down at me with a look of annoyance and judgement. I turned my nose up at him and reflected his gaze through my own. However, my challenger turned on his heel and march forward as if I was expected to follow like a dog. In an act of defiance I waited a while longer to follow, that extra space proving that I was not to be commanded like a lowly house elf, but that I moved of my own accord. As I entered the large chamber I saw my mother sitting in her usual throne. The silver and blue of the chair stood out brilliantly, despite the fact that most of the room was adorned in this fashion. My mother sat there, her brilliant smile lit up as I entered the room, her eyes a shade bluer than mine crinkled when she smiled, and she tilted her dark head towards me in invitation.

"Helena, my darling," she called in her thick scottish accent," Goodmorning! Come, sit beside me I have news!" Her left hand patted the slightly smaller version of her chair, and I, the slightly smaller version of her, obeyed.

"What is it Mother?"

"We will be entertaining guests this evening, and I would like you to get to know the eldest daughter." She gave me a stern yet affectionate nod, as if to say this was of importance.

"And who, might I ask, are we receiving?"

"An old friend of mine, and his family. Godric Gryffindor." She smiled in a vain attempt to look at ease, but I saw through it instantly, "Now, it is important you and Wilda get along, If things go accordingly, you two will be attending school together next year. The Gryffindors will arrive sometime before nightfall, and I expect you to be presentable." She of course spoke of my current state. I had previously been thrashing through the wilderness, looking for ingredients for a new potion. My dress was torn and dirty at the bottom, and she was currently attempting to draw a twig from my dark, unruly curls.

As sunset approached I became absent minded completely forgetting of their arrival, until a handmaiden entered the library where I currently sat, poring over a book of memory spells. One that kept me particularly invested was " memoriam confundi", It seemed as though this spell, had the ability to confuse a persons memory, and twisting it to the caster's liking.

"My lady!" said the maiden, distraught, with her face flushed red, "have you forgotten already? Sir Gryffindor is here!" This news was not shocking, I had been expecting them. However, my current state of dress was not considered presentable; I had not changed since my mourning hunt for berries.

" No matter," I pulled my wand from it's place at my side and pointed it at my dress, " Innova!" with a flourish my clothing burnt bright and the tares were mended and cleaned. I took the leisurely stroll from the library to the great hall with as much resentment as possible. This Wilda Gryffindor was said to be of my age. Physically, probably yes, but mentally? Few 10 year olds had a mindset comparable to mine, I was 10 years of age in appearance yes, but in soul, I was much older. I approached the large wooden doors with hesitance, this girl was probably very snobbish, and prude. Used to the very best, and nothing less, spoiled by her fathers good riches and wealthy name. Still, I pressed on, and threw the doors open as loudly as possible, and the look of disinterest upon my face. If I had actually took the time to listen to the handmaiden, I would have known that the guest were not in the Hall, but in the dining room by now, and that I was late. The red flush of embarrassment adorned on my cheeks stood out boldly against the blue room, that I quickly left before any servants had gathered what had just transpired. Minutes later I sat, rather overlooked, at the grand table, sitting across from Wilda Gryffindor. She had wild, long hair, the color of fire. Her rosy cheeks looked warmer than my own, and her bright yellow eyes, blazed like the radiant sun. When she spoke, her voice was low, like the deep roar of a lion. But her laugh, was like a sun lit waterfall, beautiful from every angle. Surely this girl was dim-witted. Her eyes, all though beautiful, seemed arrogant.

"Helena is very interested in learning, And I think She would benefit nicely from this school." compelled my mother. I was so absorbed in the judgement of Wilda I had tuned the rest of the conversation out, I now perked up at hearing my own name. Unfortunately for me I became transfixed halfway through eating, and my fork now remained at my lips, the meat it was holding now glazed with drool. I quickly composed myself, and forced myself to smile cheerfully at Sir Godric.

"Yes, Sir, I love to learn, and to read. I simply can't wait to attend this new school."

"Well lady Helena, I expect you'll have to. The four of us have decided, at the age of 11, young witches and wizards will attend Hogwarts, Until then, you will just have to get to know Wilda during the summer." There it was, Hogwarts. Construction had just been finished, and now all that remained were the students. I, of course, was one of them, including the children of the other founders: My mother, Sir Godric Gryffindor, Lady Helga Hufflepuff, and Sir Salazar Slytherin.

After the feast, I was required to show Lady WIlda through the Castle. The tour started mundane enough; a brief visit through the kitchen, the Hall, all the different rooms and chambers. I was going to end the adventure with my chamber when Wilda spoke for the first time since supper,

"i don't suppose you have a Library do you? I've always loved Libraries." I looked at her with bewilderment, Wilda did NOT strike me as the literary type. She was tall, and sturdy looking, much like her father. I had no intention on showing her the Library, for that was mine. I went to the Library for all matters, sadness, happiness, anger. All my emotions resided in that large room. It was very much my home. However, she looked absolutely intent on seeing the Library, so I led her their. Upon arriving, she twirled about the room most annoyingly, and gazed up at the tall stacks of books.

"Wow!" she gasped, as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the ancient air, "I love it."

"I come here a lot, especially recently, my mother won't stop about the bloody school and it's driving me mental." I should not have said that, one word and the prude would run her pretty mouth at her father. She simply smiled in response and nodded in understanding. She floated about the large room, stroking her long finger up the spines of the many books, as she gazed at them appreciatively. She picked one from the shelf, and sat at my usual chair, buried already in the enormous text. Despite the annoyance of her in my chair, I picked up my earlier book and sat beside her.

That is how our friendship continued over the next few years. We had many classes together during our years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and all though we were sorted into different houses, (I in Ravenclaw, and she in Gryffindor) every year we became closer. We often met after classes in the library, to sit and read in each others company, never really saying much. During the summer months she stayed at our castle, here we spent our time brewing potions from berries we had collected earlier that morning. As I soon realized, we were more similar than I had expected.


	2. Chapter 2: A Smashing Good Game

It had been several years since the first day we met, Wilda and I were soon starting our 6th year at Hogwarts. It was a few days away from our departure to Hogwarts, and I had my usual tea in the library. Every so often I was accompanied by Sir Salazar. He was kind enough, he brought me my tea (which was often bitter, but I was too polite to tell him), sometimes it was hard to ignore his stare. He had a habit at peering down at me while i was reading. His narrow, beady, black eyes looked down his crooked thin nose, which rested over his thick moustache and thin pale lips. His hair was thick, everywhere except his head. His eyebrows, like two furry caterpillars resting about his eyes, his moustache slicked into two points with wax, and his narrow beard, speckled with grey hairs, came to a point right above the apple of his throat. It was rather unnerving, knowing he was watching you. His appearance gave him a snake like impression, and it didn't help that he had an inflection in his voice when he said his s's. Often, when speaking his narrow pink tongue darted out of his lips to wet them. It was incredibly distracting and made it nearly impossible to focus when he was in the room. Never the less, he was kind and polite, so I was to him.

Those last few days went by like a blur. The excitement of being reunited with Hogwarts was enough to drive anyone mad. I could barely contain myself at the thought of that massive library, the beautiful glass windows that contained more than just the color blue, and most importantly, Wilda. I had grown quite fond of her recently, and needless to say she was my closest friend, possibly even my only true friend. Wilda, as her name suggests, was wild. She loved everything dirty and dangerous. She loved quidditch more than life itself. In my earlier years she had implored me to try my hand at the sport. All though I was fond of flying, It had taken me an unusually long time to actually learn the sport. Wilda was a Gryffindor chaser, and the team Captain, while I was the Ravenclaw seeker. We were some of the only girls on the team that year, the others belonging to Hufflepuff, none in Slytherin. We found upon arrival, that we had many of the same classes together, and I looked forward to spending as much time as possible with the red hair. Over time Wilda's red hair grew longer and wilder, and her eyes remained that fierce shade of gold they always were. She was simply the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. Many of the young wizards had noticed this fact, much to my dismay. Countless enchanted lovenotes arrived for her at breakfast. It wouldn't be an ordinary day if a large paper wrapped present didn't drop down and fling my breakfast halfway down the long table. Wilda merely smiled politely at the young boys who sent her such nice gifts. She never let them proceed any further, and for that, I was grateful. Wilda was strong, intelligent, and beautiful. None of these useless trolls deserved her attention. I also had my suitors. All though they weren't nearly as much as Wilda. There were a few of the Ravenclaw boys, who all thought of me as their lesser, and as merely a plaything. I resented them, and wouldn't give them a second glance. There were a few boys in Hufflepuff as well, who were kind, all though they lacked the confidence and drive to interest me. And one or two in Gryffindor, who were so absolutely pig brained I honestly had no idea how they were still alive. The only one not at my school was the Baron. He resided at my home Castle, a formality of my mother. He was 9 years my senior and suffered violent mood swings. Not particularly handsome either, unruly white powdered curls piled atop his head like that of a doll. Unnatural looking powdered cheeks, so red they looked as though they would burst. And a thick stomach, that he tried to conceal by tucking away in extra tight trousers. And he was in love with me. He told my mother he was going to marry me when I came of age. I outright refused, and rejected all advances made at me.

By now Wilda and I had settled down to eat our lunch before the afternoon classes started. From this point on the only class I had left with her was Defense Against the Dark Arts, which was second to last. Once again the young men from Wilde's house called to her with flirtatious winks and charming smiles, she made no move to join them, and I smirked at the look of disappointment on their faces. Wilda turned back to me with a new expression of concern.

"How have you been sleeping?" She of course was referring to the night terrors. Ever since I was about 8, I have had terrible nightmares of a figure in black standing over my bed, chanting uninterpretable words. I had had them ever since then, and the only available cure was to have someone with me while I slept. Over the summers, this had of course been Wilda, who slept in my bed. But now that we were separated once again by school, they returned only slightly less frequent. These nights had taken their toll on my body. Thankfully they did not seem to interfere with the quidditch schedule, or my body would be too weak to perform adequately. The dark circles under my eyes had given way to my suspected nightmare, and I sighed in response.

"I just wish they would stop, or atleast I knew what was causing them." I sighed.

"Well, be thankful they aren't nearly every night like they used to." she smiled reassuringly and squeezed my hand affectionately. That was another thing about Wilda; She was affectionate. She often times led me by the hand, or nuzzled her head into my lap while we were reading. Not that I minded, I was more worried about whether or not she was comfortable. Sometimes if she got bored of the book she was reading, she would give up and sit behind me, pushing herself into the small space between me and the back of the couch, to braid my hair or run her fingers through it. Sometimes I hardly noticed, so absorbed in my book. Othertimes, I did and I couldn't bring myself to focus, and allowed myself to relax under her fingertips. Life was peaceful. As far as I knew.

It had finally happened. The man in my dreams visited me the night before the quidditch cup began. Ravenclaw was to play Hufflepuff in the game the next morning. I had not awoken, for I had never fallen asleep. My eyes had heavy bags under them, and my irises were red and strained. I drug my feet down the many flights of stairs, before at last, I reached the Great Hall. I took my usual place across from Wilda, and she looked up at me with a startled cry.

"Bloody hell, Helena! You look like you've been hexed."

"I know," I sighed exhaustively, "He came to me last night." Her eyes grew large in their sockets and her golden eyes burnt bright behind the stray strands of flame colored hair.

"Helena darling, you cannot compete today! You simply musn't!"

"i have to, If I don't we will most definitely lose, and to Hufflepuff! there's no way I'm going to ruin our chances just because of an over glorified boogey man."

"Helena!" she cried in that stern demanding way, so foreign to her usual calm and warm one, "You must take this seriously! You could get hurt." This conversation was unusual for us. I was normally the one urging Wilda not to do something dangerous. THis new perspective really made me realized what an annoying prat I was sometimes. But perhaps, this sleep deprivation has just made me moody.

My classes all blurred together that day and I was at a loss as to which was which. I most embarrassingly gave a report on Transfiguration during History of Magic. Eventually the evening came to pass and soon the match would start. Currently I sat, half asleep, and half dressed, my face glued with my own slob to the wooden locker I leaned against.

"HELENA!" cried the Team captain, Cyril Blackwater, "You're the heart of the team! You can't be falling asleep! Not only are you the seeker, but you're names bloody Ravenclaw." My eyes fluttered open and I stood drowsily beside my teammates. "Now come on Raven's. This is the first big game, and by god if we lose this early I'll hex you all." we stepped out onto the pitch, and the bright sun stung my eyes. I mounted my broom slowly and before I knew it, the quaffle had been presented into play. With a late start I moved slowly to one side, staying out of the way. My strategy was often to wait for the snitch tho present it self, but it looked as though today was just not my day. Within five minutes, a bludger had found its way past my head, and I had a near fit trying to dodge it. I decided standing still was not at my advantage today, and a soared around the outer ring of the pitch. The sooner I could end the game, the sooner I could go to sleep. Suddenly, a glimpse of gold caught my attention and I zoomed toward it as fast as I could, I failed to notice, that this glimpse of gold, was only a golden crest on a Gryffindor flag. Embarrassed I turned and faced the match again. It looked as if the Hufflepuff seeker had spotted the snitch, as he was soaring high above us. I flew straight upwards, as fast as I could, and pulled up sharply, now level with Marcus Hawthorne. He seemed to be coming straight at me, but neither of us were going to back down. The snitch dropped suddenly, and was quickly plunging towards the pitch ground again. Neck and neck with Marcus, I saw the rapidly approaching field, but before I react enough to pull up, I heard a distinctive snap, and my vision went dark. The last thing I heard were thundering footsteps and sudden screams of terror as my world, soon faded to black.


	3. Chapter 3: New Developments

When I awoke, the first thing I noticed was how still I was. My eyes felt dry and weary, and any attempt to open them meant facing the blinding light. Instead I focused on my other senses. I couldn't move, it was as if my entire body was pinned down. Okay next, hearing. I listened carefully for and slight murmur that might give evidence to where I was. _Something close? Very close…. sounds like…..snoring? Snoring! Yes! I must be in bed, it was all a dream...I hope. What's that? footsteps…. _I lay still, as the footsteps grew louder. Not that it was hard, my entire body felt trapped, and I couldn't move if i felt inclined to. Then I heard a sort of rustling at my feet, _sounds like paper? _As quickly as they came, the footsteps disappeared again, and I was alone. Now it was time to try to open my eyes again. Slowly I opened one eye, so that I could just barely see the blurs of color before me. a little bit more each time, then the next eye, until I was blinking back tears and my eyes were fully open. A body on my right revealed the reason for my stationary state. Wilda sat in an uncomfortable looking chair. She had obviously been here a long time, and had drifted off to sleep. Looking around I noted the other reason, was because most of my body was bound and wrapped in bandages. My toes stuck out from under the white linen sheets that covered me. In front of them sat the source of the paper sound. Several bouquets of various flowers lay at my feet, each with a card of some sort. I was in the hospital wing. I tried to shit my weight, but in turn elicited a groan of agony. Immediately a short plump woman in a nurses uniform shuffled over to me looking rather flushed and rosy cheeked.

"Lay back deary, you're already mangled plenty!" she said cheerfully, hoping to make me brighten up "You've been asleep a while now haven't ya'."

"What happened?" I asked.

"Well it seems, you were reachin' for the snitch, when a bludger whalloped ya straight in the back of the head." Her heavy Irish accent faded in and out of my head, and I narrowly managed to grasp what she said.

"No, I mean, what happened in the match? Did we win?"

"You wild young ones you!" She bellowed disapprovingly, "Near to death and your only concern is the bloody score." With that she toddled off to bring me my routine pumpkin juice. Soon upon her exit, Cyril entered with several of my other teammates.

"Hey! You're awake? Have a good nap then?" He joked. I shifted in my stiff bed so that I could see them all, "See you got our flowers then."

"Yes thank you Cyril. Tell me, what did I miss since yesterday?" At the mention of the day, the team all shifted uncomfortably, Cyril didn't quite meet my eye.

"Uhhh.. Helena… about the match… That wasn't…" He trailed off, "That was a week ago.." This sent a shock through me, enough to rouse Wilda from her slumber on my arm.

"Yesterday! Bloody hell!" I panicked, "Well, at least tell me we won?" Again, I was met with an uncomfortable silence.

"Well, we don't exactly know. We were up several points when you.. erhmm… fell out… and then after that, Hawthorne couldn't find the snitch. No one could. In fact, no ones been able to practice with it cause it's still missing." With that, my nurse returned and ushered the students back a few feet. Wilda too, rose and joined my team mates.

"Well, I suppose you've had enough time with this one, You shattered a good many bones deary, but I think this ones good and ready." She said this as she began to unwrap my right arm. Slowly, the stark white bandages gave way to flesh, and eventually all that remained was my hand. As she examined the bone she noticed something unusual. "Deary, I don't want to frighten you, but I think your hand may be swollen." Sure enough I turned over my hand to reveal a large bulge in the center of my palm. With a slow resolve the nurse continued to remove my bandages. _That is the weirdest looking swelling I've ever seen! _ Slowly the bandages piled on the floor, to reveal, not swelling, but something small and shiny.

"Bloody hell!" Shouted Cyril, "Is that what I think it is?" Now the bandages were completely undone, and I opened my sore palm to reveal, the snitch.

There were cheers and uproars all about. It seems as though I had just managed to capture the snitch, before being struck from behind and connecting with the ground. The Nurse, whose name I never learned, began to explain that I must have had a seizure, and therefore my muscles contracted, and were wrapped with the snitch still connected!

The next morning an announcement was made during lunch that, due to recent findings, Gryffindor won their match against Hufflepuff. This put Ravenclaw in the lead, and meant that the next match would be against Slytherin. After a few more days, and plenty of skelgrow, I was healed. Wilda was the most concerned for me. She carried my books for me, and never let me stress myself too much. She rubbed my aching muscles, and lulled me to a peaceful sleep. Wilda was an amazing person. She cared so much for me, and it was really touching to see that. Eventually news got around to Headmaster Erendale, that the cause for my lack of performance during the match was due to sleep deprivation. After extensive testing with all sorts of peaceful sleep draughts, Erendale gave up, and gave me special permission to use an unused prefect bedroom as mine to share with Wilda. It was reasonably large, with it's own bathroom and common room. Wilda had convinced the Headmaster that the company of other people was the only thing that allowed me a peaceful sleep; and she was permitted to stay. In the afternoon, after classes, Wilda would sit me down and rub my muscles. Skelgrow may work great for bones, but it's effect on muscle is minimal. She would start with my shoulders, and then slowly and tenderly, work her way down my back, along my spine, and then back up to my arms. Eventually working her way down to my legs and feet. By this time I had usually already fallen asleep, and she would lift my body as if it were weightless, and tuck me into my four-poster bed. I often awoke with her strong tawny arms wrapped around my middle, and it made me feel completely safe. In fact, I felt completely renewed. The random sore aches, and nightmares eluded me. I was more alert, and attentive. My attitude improved ten fold, and the bags below my eyes disappeared.

When I awoke, I again found myself tangled with Wilda. The sun outside my window suggested that we must prepare for our morning classes soon, and I attempted to rouse her.

"_Wilda."_ I whispered.

No response.

"Come one darling, time to wake up." I said a bit louder. Wilda merely furrowed her brow and buried her face further into my shoulder. I turned to face her, and tried to gently shake her.

"shhh.." she whimpered, and without warning, eyes still closed, brow still furrowed, she leaned forward and gently pressed her lips to mine, and fell back asleep. Needless to say I was nearly late that morning. Awestruck at what had just happened, I sat there motionless, unable to process what had just transpired. My classes faded together as I sat dumbfounded through them all. Wilda seemed indifferent to everything, as if she had no recollection of this morning's event. It's possible that this was no ploy, and she does not remember. The problem wasn't that it was thought of as disgusting. That sort of behavior was well excepted within the magical community. Unlike muggles, we never strayed, and began to alienate normal human behaviors. But even so, what came as a shock was how much I wished for it to occur again.


End file.
